Deleted Scenes
by feralpixc
Summary: Uh, you know those times you just have to write pr0n, or you write and can't add it? These are some of mine. I deleted them from BIT. They're not practical. Pure ofc het excerpts. Dean. Pr0n. Deleted OFC story. What more can I say?
1. Pr0n Drabbles

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_When I Lose Control I Can Only Breathe Your Name_

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"Dean – Dean –" I gasped against his mouth as he rode me, fast and hard against the side door of the Impala, wild and out of control, moaning as he thrust – _in – out – again – again –_ and I tried not to scream too loud, biting on to the material of his shirt, because as deserted as the parking lot was at the moment, it mightn't be so when I started making loud, often blasphemous noises that 'belonged in a porno movie', according to him. Profanities clinging to the sides of my oesophagus, biting for release. Legs wrapping tighter around his waist. Smooth metal against my back, where my shirt's rucked up. His biceps, flexing under the taut clasp of my hands.

"Say it – _say it_ –" he grunted, every time he moved back to push forwards again, grazing my throat with his teeth, and I bucked against him with this contact, desperate for more – for _harder_ – _rougher_ – _faster_ – _now_ –

"Dean – _Dean_ –"

"– _say it_ –"

"I love you! _I love_ _you_ –"

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_Deleted Scene From Chapter 36 BIT_

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And then before you could even think about it you were right in his space, and licking off the sauce from the side of his mouth. Both of you froze.

"Uh…" you said, tongue still touching his skin, stubble rasping, breath skidding. _You knew this was going to happen, damnit. Well, not __this__, this, but definitely something __like__ this and oh, oh god. Oh god. _It was rich and full flavoured, the barbeque sauce in your mouth, and underneath it was Dean's unique taste – salt and man. Not a boy. You leant back slowly, struggling for thought, any rational thought to _get you out of this_. "I told you I'd get it," you said finally, covering, and then his hands were in your hair, his mouth on yours, his tongue curling, seeking out every last bit of his flavour on you. It was desperate and hungry and grabby and almost honest, sexy and sweet and slick, your hands fisting on his shirt, twisting in the material to pull him closer, harder against you, and you moaned when he angled his head just right, noses mashing for a second until you could breathe and all you could breathe was _Dean. _His beautiful, strong hands curling and moving your head with his kisses – he was finally really kissing you, kissing you _stupid_ for that matter, his hands so hot on you that you shuddered and twisted, and gave up.

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_You Want This?_

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"You want this?" she whispered, voice hoarse in the close darkness, one hand gripping him so tight to be just this side of pleasure, the other with thumb pressing down on the hollow beneath his left hipbone, fingers arched round his side. He was hot and smooth against her right palm, fingers curled unyielding around the downy-soft thickness and shape – a sensation that was swiftly becoming as familiar to her as her own face, every other part of him. He was hard and pulsing, and she pulled slowly, the heat and a slight nervousness at what she was doing – _what if someone caught them? – what was he thinking? – oh god, what was she doing?_ – making her palm slick against him, the slide of flesh on flesh sweet and gliding and even.

He groaned somewhere above her, and she was glad he was as blind as her in the black quarters, as her skin flushed at the sound, embarrassment and desire – mostly embarrassment, because _god_ – imbuing her cheeks with the pink glow she often denied the existence of. He made the sound again, even deeper, if that were possible, like his voice had dropped ten stories down, when she breathed out against the length of him, lips almost grazing, and then blew cold air on the tip. "Yes, yes," he ground out, and she licked her lips, and in one efficient move swallowed him down.

She hadn't done this in a while; but it wasn't like it was a skill that could be unlearned, just like riding a bike, or swimming. _Yeah,_ she told herself, _just keep thinking of it like that, in innocent, childlike terms, and maybe you won't die of the combination of ohgodyes-listen-to-him, how'd-you-like-that-bitch, and how-will-I-ever-face-him-again._ She's _sucking him off_ in a _supply_ _closet_ in a _police station_ – all because he was being an asshole to her, and she decided that she wasn't in the mood, and that she was going to do something about it. Impulsive decisions like this are what get her into serious trouble, she _knows_ that. And yet, when he gave her that smirk, and made some comment about her using her 'merits' to open the police officers up, she hadn't thought, just acted – which is why they're here, now. Her nose pressed into the taut, jumping skin under his navel, him making soft choking sounds over her head, gripping her hair, and her throat humming Metallica around him like she does this everyday.

Which, you know, she's been thinking about doing for a _while_, but just – _so come on, jump in the fire, so come on, jump in the fire –_ this, here? It's unexpected, to say the least. At least she has one up over him this time, and he can't even see her, so that's good, an added bonus. He won't see the weird way her face scrunches when she massages his underside with her tongue, while trying to figure out how to keep him as far down as he is, keep the suction going, and not scrape him with her teeth. All this – _the 'sex stuff'_ – well, it's still new enough to make her a little edgy – make that a _lot_ edgy – every time, and thinking about what he'll say _afterwards_ – there's no way she'll be let off without a smarmy comment – yeah. She's really glad it's dark in here. _Really_ glad.

She pulls off to suck on the tip, roll her tongue around it, palm coming back down from his hip to tug and twist the moist length. She can't help but love the sounds he's making, trying to control himself, keep it down so no one else will hear, the fact that it's her doing this to him. It's her making him burn like this, her who is making him breathless and say thick little out of control words, _'fuck, fuck, yes'_ a profane religious chant in the back of his throat. Her gripping him possessive and easy, him letting her. In moments like this he is hers, and that makes everything worth it.

He's warning her, pulling a little harder at his handfuls of blonde curls, grunting out a 'I'm – I'm – _Lauren'_ – but she just swallows him back down all the way, until he brushes the back of her throat, and when he lets go she's there to take it all, to consume his bitter-salt essence and pull off with an obscene popping sound, grin up at him.

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_Uh… I was exercising my porn license. For my Goddess. You know those times when you just itch to write naughty? These are those. :dodges rocks:_


	2. Deleted Scene: Bugs

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_Deleted Scene From BIT, Chapter 28_

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Crushing everything deep inside me, I made smiles, and the appropriate cooing noises at the public, faking normal, faking happy for Dean and Sam, who were still eyeing me – not so much as though I had the plague, but more as though there was suspicion that I did.

I was trying, valiantly and _successfully_ – although that _may_ have something to do with the fact that Larry Poik, the developer guy had just called the boys gay – to keep my mind off of everything that had transpired in the motel room. If that wasn't _the_ most amusing thing I'd heard in a long time, and went towards making me feel marginally better _– yeah, not really at all –_ nothing would.

I could kind of see why he'd think that, maybe – though why anyone would wish it when the boys are so…_yum_ – I mean, they have the whole completely understanding and in sync vibe with each other, which could be mistaken for… those kinds of feelings. They always shared those looks that conveyed so much meaning to each other – their thoughts on everything that was going on; so that, again, could be taken the wrong way.

I can still see their faces after Larry's obvious spiel; _let me just say, we accept home owners of any race, religion, colour or sexual orientation. _It was classic. Dean, shocked, eyes wide and horrified as Larry smiled down at him from the doorway, and Sam tried not to crack up at his side. The way Dean had stiffened, you'd have thought he had a cattle prod shoved up that cute little butt of his.

Coming up behind them I'd heard the speech, and had laughed outwardly, inwardly tucking the situation away to look and laugh at properly later, as I couldn't really appreciate it fully in my – with the way I was feeling. Dean had quickly put Larry to rights, telling them they were _brothers_ – _brothers damn you, how dare you think that, _I could see him yelling behind the blank face – while Sam spooned on some crap of his own, about their father getting on in years, blah, blah.

_If John could have heard that –_ _but I'm not thinking about him. _

_Or anything to do with him._

Lagging behind the brothers so I could watch Larry making nice with them, I got caught by a woman who wanted to sell the neighbourhood to me as well. Being too polite – _ha_ – and tired, really, to put her off, I only managed to escape when I saw yet another woman in a suit conversing with the boys.

I walked up behind them, admiring, of course – who can help themselves when the brothers are so blatantly on display – the denim very slightly hugging the rounded contours of their –

"…let me just say, we accept home owners of any race, religion, colour or… sexual orientation," the woman said, shrugging her shoulders up and smiling brightly at the brothers.

Okay, now _that_ made the day brighter by far.

I stuffed a fist into my mouth, shoulders shaking as I caught the look on Dean's face. He was stunned – again, and then he sucked it up, coming out on top, as usual. _Damn, I have totally got to stop thinking in insinuatingly sexual terms. _"Right," he said. "Well, I'm gonna go talk to Larry, 'kay honey?"

And then he playfully smacked Sam on the ass.

This time, as I howled into my hands, tearing pricking the corners of my eyes, it was Sam's turn to be shocked, and the woman's, whose own smile disappeared – then reappeared just as quickly. _Ah, sales representatives. Thou art my true people…_

Dean came over to me, and dragged me inside to talk to Larry about houses and flooring choices, and what-the-fuck-ever. I was introduced as Dean's girlfriend, his hand gripping my ass – probably to reaffirm his sexuality or something, the poor baby. I slapped it off as soon as Larry's back was turned, not in any kind of mood to be fondled by someone who I'd just had a fight about, indirectly, with my –

Yeah, I just didn't want to be fondled.

Larry's kid kept bugs in jars around the house. I officially hated everything to do with Oasis Plains.

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_This was a scene I played around with putting in after Sharika and Lauren had their first fight. Plus, god, I just adore that scene, 'kay honey? ROFL. _


	3. Food!

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_Deleted Scene From BIT, Chapter 30_

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"Food!" I yelled, throwing myself out of the car, and hugging Sam desperately. Can you say embarrassed? Oh,_ hell yeah. _"Sam! My favourite, _favourite_ person! I'm so glad you're back! I missed you – and you brought food! Have I told you I loved you lately, because, yes, I do – indeed, I do –" All through out this garbled speech I was reaching into the McDonalds bag I'd snatched from him, and pulling out a handful of fries that I could stuff into my mouth, to stop myself from speaking. Finally, I had enough to plug it. "– and ha-mmmmph – mmmmph – mffphmp!"

"Dean, what did you do to her?" Sam asked dryly, and I shot a worried glance over my shoulder at his brother, who was pulling himself out of the Impala behind me, his composed, self-assured body nowhere near comparable to the ball of frantic energy mine still was. Through a mouthful of crispy, yellow potato-sticks, I entreated him, eyes widening until I was afraid they'd drop onto the dirty concrete, my arms still wrapped as tightly as they could go about Sam's hard waist. Stretching, back creaking loudly, he shot me an amused glance, and opened his mouth to say something.

Using the first thing that popped into my head, I swallowed, and interrupted him. "Want to go to a bar tonight?" Getting drunk after doing _that_ wouldn't be an entirely _bad _thing to do, would it? What else would hundreds of other people drink to forget about, but embarrassing – _beyond embarrassing – _things like that?

And so, after many _'what for'_s, and much to-ing and fro-ing, we did.

But Dean didn't let me forget the whole semi-handjob issue.

Have I mentioned lately that I _hate_ him?

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_Just a short scene I had to scrap; I loved it though, so I had to keep it. Babbling!Lauren is one of my very favourite people. _


End file.
